


Carving out a place

by orphan_account



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Bone Breaking, Captivity, Crucifixion, Eddie gets fucking bulldozed, Eye Trauma, Gen, Gore, Gratuitous Violence, Revenge, Sexual Themes, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 10:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10358658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She shouldn't be in here, but she is, and so is he.A walking nightmare. A hunter, a lunatic, and if she is ever going to find peace he has to die.In which Eddie Gluskin gets his ass handed to him by a tall, scared woman who just wants to take back control. Violence without plot. Outlast really does a good job making you feel small, weak and powerless, so I wrote a fic where it's opposite.





	

Looking back, Nora regretted breaking into Mount Massive asylum, but she had been tired and angry, and goddamn was she fucking sick of stuck-up customers wasting her time. Didn’t they realize she paid for her own gas? It’s not like pizza delivery pays well to begin with, so when assholes made her drive all the way to _Mount fucking Massive_ , only to leave her at the gate for thirty minutes without picking up the phone or coming out to collect their ridiculously huge order, she lost money fast.   
Besides, it hadn’t technically been breaking in. When she shook the padlocked, wrought iron gates the chains just fell right off. It honestly looked like someone had just tied them there and put the lock on for decoration.  
She left the nine pizzas in the car (goddamn suits always ordered dinner for everyone at their meaningless meetings, paid with the company card and barely tipped) and walked right into the courtyard.

She should have turned back when she saw the commotion. The front doors were wide open, hundreds of voices filling the still night air, and inside the asylum she could see flickering lights and running shadows. She didn’t turn back. Instead, she calmed her breath, put on her best “Excuse me, sir” customer service face, and walked straight into hell.

Since then she had been running from cannibals and perverts, broken her nose in a fist fight with a disfigured hulk of a man, hid in lockers and walls, crawled through bloody air vents and seen people die horribly. The most insane thing was that she was still alive.  
Granted, Nora had a clear advantage. She was built like a cheetah with a punch like a freight train. Her broad shoulders, hard jawline and aggressive behaviour had gotten her teased when she was little, but once puberty hit and made her a 6’5’’ hormonally unstable teenager, that had mysteriously stopped. She had been called manly, burly, even ugly, and channelling all those doubts and negative emotions into sports had made her look the way she did. A lifetime of swimming had given Nora defined, cut abs, strong arms and legs, built for endurance, and picking up boxing in high school had left her with hard hands and a winning chance. She had walked over countless dead security guards and not found a single gun, so when push came to shove she had to rely on training and pure strength.  
These… People, things, whatever had no plans. They just charged and flailed their arms about, leaving themselves open to her fists and letting her daze and dash every time. She had encountered one motherfucker with a circular saw, but other than that they were no problem.  
Except Eddie Gluskin.

She knew his name from an official looking file she had found, and he had been an unrelenting menace ever since they first met. He was a predator, stronger and smarter than any of the others, quite vocal and eloquent but clearly a lunatic. All the other inmates had taken her for a man with her baggy clothes and hidden face, but Eddie seemed to know better. He had called her darling and showered her with compliments when he saw her, only to scream insults at her when she evaded him. That gruff voice calling her a whore, only to immediately apologize and profess his undying love, was one of the most disturbing things she had encountered yet.   
At least she thought Eddie knew. It was hard to tell, really. She had personally witnessed him chasing down a clearly male inmate, calling him a worthless slut, before knocking him out cold and kissing him on the lips, murmuring about “a blushing bride”. Maybe Eddie Gluskin thought everyone were women. Maybe Eddie Gluskin was fucked in the head.

She had avoided thinking about what would happen if he caught her. Now she had witnessed it. Hiding in that locker had been stupid, but she was too tired to try to fight him and she saw no way to run. He had found her. He had dragged her, locker and all, to what she could only assume was his home away from home.   
What he did to those men…

When it was her turn, she had been sitting down in the locker, uncomfortably packed together, and he must have thought she was sleeping because he seemed completely unprepared for her punch. It had been stewing in her left arm this entire time. Her lower vantage point gave her a perfect shot at his solar plexus, and the sudden, hissing noise of his breath leaving him was extremely satisfying.  
Her head was pounding. Her fingers were itching like there were bees under her nails. She wanted to get rid of the source of her fear, once and for all, and even though his brief moment of vulnerability gave her the perfect opportunity to escape she didn’t.  The next punch hit him in the back of the head with all the rage she could muster, and he went out cold.

She understood now. All the blood, guts and senseless violence she had met until now. It made a weird kind of sense, now that she had felt the suffocating grip of fear for so long. It twisted your mind, being so afraid for so long.  
That’s what she told herself, at least, as she got the rope from the macabre surgery table Eddie Gluskin had assembled and used it to tie him up. In the corner of the room there was a steel cage of sorts, like a little room made of wire, and she managed to hoist him up and tie him so he was standing with his ugly head lolling on his chest.   
She needed to hurt him. The itching in her fingers was getting worse. She wanted to take this fear, to ball up all the tension in her aching muscles, and shove it down his throat. She needed to humiliate him, neutralize him, **hurt him** and take back control. Eddie needed to stop being frightening and then he needed to die. She would never sleep again if he was still breathing.  
She had just secured his ankles when he grunted awake. In the shifting, green tinted light of this room she could see him clearly, savour the confusion in his eyes when they fluttered open.  
There was nothing white in there. Just black dots in a pool of red.  
When she stood she found that they were equal in height. That, for some reason, pleased her immensely. He wasn’t so scary now, strung up like Christ on the cross, forced to submit to whatever she wanted to do with him. She hadn’t decided that yet.  
  
“Urgh… Ah, darling. No, shush, it’s okay. I understand. I frightened you, of course. You must think be terribly unfaithful, having seen what I did to those whores. Fret not, little flower. They were sluts, ugly and unlovable, not worthy of marriage. I would never betray you.”  
His voice was cooing and calm. It made her so angry she started shaking. He smiled a winning smile, stretching the disgusting, boil-ridden side of his face.  
“I forgive you. A woman must be allowed her… Unstable moments. Let me down now, darling.”  
Her fists were clenched white. She wanted nothing more than to hit him, again and again, shove both her hands into that fake smile and pry his face apart from the inside, gouge out his eyes with her tongue and chew his brain-  
“Oh god,” she whispered. The mental image of a mutilated Eddie Gluskin was vivid in her mind. What was happening to her?  
“My, what a beautiful voice you have, darling! I don’t believe I’ve heard you speak before! Truly a woman’s voice. When we’re done, after we do away with your… Vulgarity, you will truly be beautiful. I know it.”  
he was still smiling, that slimy prick. Like he was in control of the situation. She hated it, she hated it so much she needed to do something about it. She needed to understand it, or do away with it. Soon, before she snapped and acted on her disgusting impulse to rip his face clean off.  
“Beautiful…?” she asked, her voice shaking with rage.  
“Is that what you call it?! What you did with those guys?! You’re cutting their dicks off, sicko!”  
His smile twitched.  
“Language, my love. I am taking away their ugliness, making them perfect, don’t you see? Carving out a nice, warm place for my seed, to grow my family. Alas, love is not for everyone, darling. I must insist you cut me down now. Even my patience has an end.”  
She was shaking her head, clutching at her braided hair with both hands. Was this all about sex? Really? She had been contorted into that locker for an eternity, forced to watch as he chopped up man after man, because he wanted to _get laid_? If this was really about him trying to create some kind of Frankenstein-version of a woman, then why the fuck had he tried to carve into _her_? Questions without answers were howling in her brain, and everything was tainted by her overwhelming desire to pull all his teeth out and shove rocks into the bleeding holes in his gums.  
“Ugliness?!” she yelled, the word exploding from her lips.  
“W- what? That’s what this is about? Cock? Why did you h-hunt ME, THEN?! FUCK YOU!”  
It felt like she was drowning. She was so tired, so hungry, every inch of her skin bruised and every muscle aching with adrenaline. Only half aware of what she was doing she found herself balling up her sweatshirt, shoving it under her bra to keep it up and exposing her chiselled abdomen. She noticed his face growing darker, but she was angry too, and with jittery and desperate hands she unbuttoned her jeans, hitched her thumbs behind her boxers and pants, and pulled them just below her pelvis. Her private, dick-less self was now exposed to him.  
“Look! Do you fucking see any “ugliness”?! You’ve been chasing me for hours, showing me how you violently castrate people, because you thought I was a fucking _man_ , Gluskin?”  
It didn’t make sense, but she had the overwhelming feeling that this could all just be a misunderstanding. She was going to kill him, obviously, but if she could rub it in his face that he was completely wrong then she would. She was taking back control now. He was bound, she was not.  
He was wrong, she was right.

A curious expression came over his face. Then, slowly, a soft and genuine smile replaced it.  
“Ah… Darling. Of course, I could see it. I knew you were different from the others the moment our eyes met. Please, forgive me.”  
To her surprise and disgust she saw his eyes grow wet.  
“Finally… I’ve been searching for so long, darling. How did I not see it before? You are truly beautiful. Perfect in every way. Oh, I see now. I’ve hurt you. I am so very, very sorry, I never meant to suggest you needed to change. There is no ugliness in you, I can see that now. I understand why you punish me so. I promise, after the wedding, when I make an honest woman out of you, I will be a different man.”  
She pulled her underwear back up, feeling worse than ever. At least she had gotten her closure.  
Eddie Gluskin had created a special circle of hell just for her, because he was trying to make himself a bride. He thought she was a man. Now that he knew she wasn’t, he wanted to marry her and start a family.  
Somehow, that was more fucked up than all the gore she had witnessed combined. He sounded so genuinely sorry. She wanted nothing more than to break all his fingers, knock out his teeth, peel the skin back from his large frame and shower the world with his worthless, worthless blood.   
She felt herself reach out and put a quivering fist to his chest, nudging him gently. He was real. His body was there, warm and helpless, and she could do whatever she wanted with it.  
She was taking back control.  
He moved when she touched him, just a little but enough for her to notice.  
“Does it hurt?” she heard herself ask, in a deadpan voice she barely recognized. She wanted to pummel him into mush and flush his remains down the drain.  
“Ngh- Yes, darling. A scratch, nothing more. All worth it for finding you.”  
She brushed her fingertips over his ribs, pressing into a spot right below his armpit. He flinched again.  
“And there?” she asked. An eerie warmth was creeping into her voice. She was losing her mind.  
“My love, you will be a wonderful mother to our children. I can see that. But please, save your concern for later, after the wedding you can nurse me back to health. Let me down.”  
“A broken rib?” she persisted. She pressed with her fingertips against his broad body, finding a little extra give in some places, and relishing in the sharp breath he drew.  
“Really, my pearl, my blooming flower, it is nothing serious. A woman’s instincts, I know, but we have more pressing matters to attend-“ his sentence was broken by a yelp as she found the injury. She saw him, in her minds eye, hanging by his feet with his throat slashed, draining into the filthy floor.  
She waited until she felt him relax.  
“Yes…” She whispered, primal anticipation bubbling in her stomach.  
“Yes.” He echoed back at her, still with that stupid fucking smile.

His scream felt like an orgasm to her. Utilizing the element of surprise again, she drove her left fist like a sledgehammer into his ribcage, feeling the oddly soft crunch of an already fractured rib beneath her knuckles. She pushed it deep into his body, shoving squishy organs to the side in the split second before his muscles tensed from the pain.   
Then, to stop his pitiful siren, she slammed a flawless uppercut into his jaw and heard it snap shut. Blood welled from his closed lips, and the howling turned to gurgles.  
_He bit his tongue_ , she thought.  
_Maybe he bit it off. Maybe he chokes on it._  
She pulled her foot back, holding on to his shoulders for balance, and with all the force of a cornered animal she kicked his nuts back into his body. She could no longer identify the noises he was making, but she was vaguely aware of her own screaming.  
Again and again her knuckles connected with his helpless self. She forced her right fist into his navel and up towards his ribcage, observing as his stomach swelled. She wanted to puncture everything inside this despicable, misogynistic parody of a human being, she wanted the river of blood running out his mouth to drown them both, she wanted him to _be gone_ and she wanted to know he would rot in hell forever. All the anger, confusion, fear and disgust she had felt since she entered Mount Massive materialized in her hands as she punched him, over and over, painting his skin a blotchy red and feeling the hot blood pool beneath his flesh. He had stopped babbling long ago, but she was still going. She tore tufts of hair out of his scalp, shoved her fingers deep in his tear canal, tried to get into his brain via the nose and failed miserably. Her hands were all over him, ripping his clothes and clawing at stubs of bone sticking out, until the entire universe consisted of bruises and panic.

She didn’t know how long it took for her to collapse by his feet. She was panting, crying, her own breath burning in her lungs. She couldn’t feel her hands.  
From her new perspective she peered underneath the mangled thing that had been Eddie Gluskin, into the steel cage she had crucified him on, and saw a huddled shape in the corner there.  
It was looking at her.  
A potential bride, she supposed.  
“Did you like the show, motherfucker?” she whispered to it. The shape drew its knees closer and widened its eyes.   
“Tell them,” she groaned. With the last drops of strength she had left, she forced herself up on all fours and found the keys in Eddie’s pocket. She threw them through the bars and laid back down.  
“Tell them the groom is fucking dead. Tell them… Tell them how he died. Anyone trying to fuck with me is gonna get the same.”  
She observed through hooded eyes as the shaking man removed the padlock from the door and left, making bloody footprints.

If Nora couldn’t get out of Mount Massive, then she was going to carve out a place for herself. A nice, warm place.   
To grow her family.


End file.
